


The Sun Is Still a Star

by Insane_but_smart



Series: Aestheticverse [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (literally), Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Astronomy, Beans will be beans, Bittersweet, Blacking Out, Character Death, Chased, Childhood Memories, Comforting, Confessions, Conversations, Crying, Death, Discovered, Emotion Problems, Figuring out how said bodies work, First Sunset, First Words, Found, Growing Up, Holding Hands, Hugs, I Love You, I don't know, Insanity, Knives, Literal Sleeping Together, Memories, Minor Character Death, Monologue, Names, POV Alternating, Painting, Rambling, Regrets, Rosebushes, Roses, Running, Self-Harm, Sobbing, Social Anxiety, Spirits, Stars, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunsets, Talking, Timeskips, Waiting, Walking, a lot of people die, beaten up, cornered, is Nim dead? does fusing with a tree count as dead?, new bodies, no happy ending, uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insane_but_smart/pseuds/Insane_but_smart
Summary: Two new guardians, and something they need to protect with their lives.Needless to say, it all goes down in flames.They'll protect it until the end.After all, it's what they were made to do.(A version of Dreamtale.)
Series: Aestheticverse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679476
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Creation, Jobs, and Sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> Hey.  
> I. Am. So. Excited!!!  
> This is the ACTUAL first work of the series, the other is simply an introduction to it.  
> Have fun reading this!

There was a universe, and in that universe, there was a rosebush. Not an ordinary rosebush, but one that held extraordinary power- so much so that blood was spilled over it, and its Guardian was now dying. With what little remained of her powers, Nim reached out into the universes beyond this one, which bore the name Dreamtale, trying to find suitable bodies for new Guardians, for she knew she would not live to see the next sunrise.

After a while of searching, she was thankfully able to find two suitable ones, and she sighed, knowing these two would be capable enough. Without the time to choose just one with the limited time she had left, she made the two bodies- both of them skeleton monsters without SOULs, for she could not grant them that.

As she was fading fast, she was unable to place the positive and negative spirits within them, but she was able to give them instructions, along with enough SOUL energy- something that was not quite a proper SOUL, but would give the guardians enough time to make it to the bush and absorb their respective spirits. Yes, for a while they would be incomplete, lacking proper emotions and coherent thoughts, but that would only be for a short while. They would know their duty, and they would carry it out. At least, that was the plan, and she hoped they would follow it.

Spirits were unpredictable like that, she thought, as she fused with the rosebush.

Nobody heard from her again after that day, and many thought she had died.

Where was… he?

No.

No, the question was really ‘Where were  _ they? _ ’ he realized, turning his head to see another… skeleton? Was  _ he  _ a skeleton? Did the other identify as male as well? Were they both skeletons? Yes, they were- he could feel each individual bone on his hands, and he experimented with bending them, as if he had never had hands before, because he hadn’t. Something told him that they weren’t meant to be born like this- they were meant to go through stages of life, slowly learning how to function through each of them.

“Hello?” he asked, voice cracking with the unfamiliar use of speech. “Who… who are you?”

A similarly broken voice replied after a bit. “I don't… don’t know.”

“Are we supposed… are we meant to know that?”

“Don’t… I don’t… think so?”

There was a silence, before the other spoke up again. “We… have jobs?”

“Yes, I t… I think. Guarding that,” He pointed to the oddly-colored rosebush. “Right?”

“Yeah.” Another pause. “Should we go inspect it?”

“O… okay.”

The pair set off towards the plant they were meant to protect, motions jerky, but after a few moments, they got used to it. “What do we look like?” Speech came more naturally as well, apparently.

“Your eye… eyelights? Are blue.”

“Is that not… not normal?”

“I don’t… believe it is?”

“Oh. Well yours are,” He turned to look at the other as they continued to walk up the hill. “Yours are white.”

“I think we look similar? I… we’re not related, though.”

That would make sense. “What should we call ourselves?”

“Let’s decide that later. We’re at the bush now, anyways.”

“Okay.”

At some point, they had begun to hold hands, interestingly enough, and wordlessly, they moved away from each other, neglecting to mention it to the other, because it really didn’t matter. “So,” the first to speak started, “What side do we… we guard? I’d imagine we each have our own respective sides, yes?”

“Makes sense,” the other hummed. “Why would there be two of us if we didn’t each have a side..?”

“How will we decide?”

Both of the unnamed guardians paused, thinking about that for a moment. “Pick the side that we feel most comfortable with?” the second proposed. “It seems only fitting that we would feel more familiar with our own sides.”

“We can certainly try,” the first agreed, and they moved to inspect the rosebush more carefully. One side glowed with beauty, with thornless stems and leaves shining proudly in sunshine, and sparkling with inner life. The roses it held seemed to be made of gold, and they too sparkled and shone in the light eternally cast over it, seeming to promise happiness and power. 

Too much power, the guardians knew. Just consuming one of the golden roses- and just  _ thinking  _ about eating a rose was weird- would put you into a happiness-induced coma, for too much of one thing would always harm.

Turning to the other side, which was quite ominously perpetually shrouded in shadow, the black-purple roses laid. While all would agree whole-heartedly that the lighter side of the bush was beautiful, only a few people could truly find the darker side beautiful, and they were the ones who were often shunned by society, or deemed insane- the true eccentrics. Its stems were thorny, and its leaves were dark green, and most were slightly warped at the tips. Its blooms spoke of despair, misery, and hopelessness to most. Yet to some it spoke of longing and regret- and it indirectly spoke of a brighter future- of  _ hope. _

The guardians looked at each other. “So, time to choose, huh?” the second spoke again, already knowing which side he would choose. At the other’s nod of consent, they stepped in opposite directions- one instinctively heading for the positivity-filled roses, and the other moving towards the shadows the dark, brooding purple ones brought.

They only had a few seconds to contemplate their choices when two glowing orbs of light flew into their chests- a golden one matching its roses for the second, and a soft, lavender one for the first.

Simultaneously, the two guardians gasped with the power being pressed into their chests- taking the place of SOULs that should have been there, and the remnants of the pathetic substitutes for SOULs that Nim had granted them faded away, no longer required.

They were finally whole.

The newly-instated Guardian of Negativity groaned. Stars, that was disorienting- if not painful. Actually, that was extremely painful? H- how did he know that?

While his counterpart had an existential crisis, the Guardian of Positivity attempted to figure out why something felt off, when it suddenly clicked.

“We… we need names now, huh?” he asked, voice shaking slightly. Why was it shaking? He didn’t know, he was new to this body!

“Yeah, guess we do,” the other replied, frowning. Maybe his name should be something related to negativity? What was correlated with negativity…? Nighttime! And at night there are… things. Things in the sky… burning balls of gas? Stars! Stars. There were different colors of stars, right? Uhh… there were red ones, blue ones, yellow ones- wait, his eyelights were… they were blue! What were some different blue stars he knew about? There was… huh, there were a lot of numbers in a lot of these names that he had just learned he knew-

_ Rigel. _ The guardian blinked, once, then twice. Rigel.

Rigel.

_ Rigel. _

“Rigel,” he said, the word feeling awkward on his tongue at first. “R- Rigel. I’m… Rigel.” Rigel looked at the other, a slow smile spreading across his face. “My name is Rigel!” he exclaimed happily, laughing a little.

The other hummed in reply. “Rigel,” he asked, after a while, (and it might just have been to say that name for the first time) “I can’t think of a name.”

Rigel paused. A name? “Well, positivity is associated with daytime, right?”

“Right.”

“So why not something that has to do with the sun?”

The… sun. A solution so obvious, yet he missed it completely. The still unnamed guardian sighed, wondering what on earth could be on the sun that he could name himself after, and then laughing at the unintentional pun. “What’s something that I could name myself after that’s on the  _ sun,  _ of all places? What on earth could I use?” he said, between snickers.

Rigel, unfortunately, didn’t share his sense of humor. “W- Was that a  _ pun? _ ” he exclaimed incredulously. “Wh- what the  _ heck? _ H- how could you stoop to such a cheap sense of humor?” Shaking his head, utterly disappointed in his counterpart, he continued, “I mean, there are a buncha cool things on the sun! It’s a burning ball of gas, and according to heliocentric theory, all the other planets in the solar system revolve around it!”

“How… how does that help?”

“I’m getting there- there are a bunch of different areas on the sun. Some parts are cooler and called ‘sunspots’, and sometimes it has solar flares which can send out cosmic radiation through the solar system which can cause-”

“Call me Flare.” His voice cut through the excited rant, and Rigel’s gesticulating hands fell to his sides.

“Flare… m’kay! Sounds good!” Rigel grinned. “It’s a pretty passionate name, if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

Flare shrugged. “I didn’t think about that, but I guess you’re right.”

The pair of opposites sat down in front of the bush. “I have a question, actually.” Flare asked, after a short while.

“What is it?”

“How do you know so much about space and… stuff like that if we were just created?” It had been confusing him for a while, and he really wanted to know the answer.

“Well, I think it’s sort of like the way we knew how to talk and walk, despite never having done so. What do you do with guardians who can’t perform basic functions without someone to teach them any? They’d die, uh, probably. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that we have some knowledge to help us with our jobs?”

Flare hummed in agreement. “That makes sense. I guess.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Flare noticed it was getting darker. “Hey, is the sun setting?” Rigel looked up, and then immediately slapped a hand over his eyesockets, a startled squeak escaping his throat. “Yeah… yeah, it is,” he agreed. “But it’s still super bright.” Rigel whined, before removing his hand and squinting at the sun, which had since sunk lower, drifting towards the horizon.

It was perfect. Rigel’s hand nudged Flare’s with an unspoken request, and the guardian accepted it, holding it gently in his, taking in the solace that the physical contact brought him.

They stayed like that, holding hands, watching the first sunset either of them had ever seen. Later, they would agree that there would never again be one just like it.

That was the end of their first day together as guardians.


	2. Growing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growing up is hard.  
> It also means change, and neither of them want that.
> 
> (alternatively named 'Drifting Apart')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Just a quick notice: This chapter covers heavy themes that may be triggering for some people, such as self harm and suicidal thoughts. Please check the tags! There will be a warning before it starts, so if you wish to skip those parts, you are welcome to do so.  
> There will be a summary at the end, so don't worry about missing out.)
> 
> yes, i wrote this chapter in 2 days.  
> help.

It wasn’t hard to guard something without any threat to it. There wasn’t anything threatening the roses…

In all honesty, Flare thought it was a bit boring. Why did they need to be created if there wasn’t any immediate threats- oh, yeah, because the previous guardian had been dying.

He and Rigel had been spending the past few months learning how to actually function. Flare sometimes had problems with his emotions here and there, but it was getting better. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, at least.

_ “Flare?” Rigel asked, eyelights filled with concern. “Flare!” _

_ The skeleton in question looked up, blinking in confusion. “Wha-” _

_ “Flare!” Rigel suddenly hugged him, and after a moment the front of Flare’s black shirt was wet with the other’s tears. “You- you’re okay…!” he choked out between sobs, his body shaking. _

_ “What happened?” Flare asked, his mind drawing a blank. _

_ “You- you weren’t reacting to anything- and I- I- I tried to help you, but you just weren’t doing anything-!” _

_ “Hey, it’s okay.” he murmured, holding the other, smaller skeleton close. “I’m fine now, alright? It turned out good, right?” _

_ Rigel looked up at him, eyesockets filled with azure tears. “I… ugh, yeah, yeah, you’re right, you’re right… I’m being stupid.” He grinned, expression strained. “It’s fine.” _

_ “Rigel, I’m fine, but you… you’re not,” Flare said, and the other looked up at him, expression flushed with guilt. “It’s going to be okay. I can’t… I can’t guarantee that we’ll never get hurt. But we can try. We can try to be there for each other. Rigel, we can at least try, okay? Tell me you’ll try?” _

_ Rigel frowned, looking at his hands, then Flare, then the ground, and then he did it all again, and again, before he replied. “...I’ll try.” _

_ “Thank you.” _

Flare blinked. Oh, he’d gotten lost in thought again. He shot a glance at Rigel, who tried to pretend that he hadn’t been watching the other, and instead had been  _ fully immersed in this poetry he was writing. _ Flare stifled a giggle, turning back to his own watercolor painting, and then groaning when he realized it had dried. He’d need to paint over it… 

Or he could just leave it be? A happy little mistake?

Mnh, he felt lazy… he was going to leave it be, he decided, moving over to Rigel and tapping his shoulder. “Hey, I finished my painting. Wanna see?”

Rigel looked up at him, grinning. “Yeah, sure!”

It was a painting of the rosebush, something he’d been working on for a while now. “Hey, that’s pretty cool! Your art style kinda changed near the end though… but it still looks great! I love it, bro!”

They both paused. “D- did you just call me-” Flare started, at the same time Rigel said, “Ohh stars, I’m sorry, I-”

Flare hushed him. “No, no it’s just I was surprised, that’s all! I really don’t mind it!” He was about to say something, but he didn’t know how to put the thought into words.

“You… do you want to say something?” Rigel fussed with his vibrant blue half-cape, clearly nervous but trying his best to hide it.

“Y- yeah. I d- do, actually,” Flare paused, taking a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to be… you know, b- brothers?”

Suddenly, he was thrown to the floor by the sheer force of Rigel aggressively hugging him. “Of course I do!” the other replied, his excitement barely contained.

Flare sighed in relief before chuckling. “Okay, okay, but we actually need to figure this out, y’know? Are there any legal things we need to figure out…? I mean, we need to tell the villagers we’re siblings now, right?”   
“Oh, uh, yeah. Nobody’s really asked me about it, though, so if we just introduce ourselves as siblings, we should be fine?”

“...yeah. That’s much simpler, actually.”

“Yep!” Rigel (finally) rolled off of Flare, and onto his back. “Should we go now?”

“Uh… sure. We can do that.” He had nothing better to do, anyways. Standing up, he held out a hand to the other. “So, we should get going, then.”

Rigel took it, pulling himself up. “Yeah, let’s.”

They didn’t let go until they made it to the village.

The villagers were nice, Flare decided. They were all really nice to him, but the normally hyperactive Guardian of Negativity was unusually subdued. Poking the other’s shoulder, he asked, “Hey, you alright?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah. I am.” Rigel replied, avoiding looking Flare directly in the eyes- actually, he seemed to be looking anywhere  _ but _ at Flare.

“O… okay. If you need something, though, don’t feel bad about asking me. We’re brothers, right?”

Rigel smiled a little bit- nowhere near his normal expressiveness, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah. We are.” Rigel continued to smile for a few more seconds, before he looked up, saw something, and went back to hiding behind his ‘brother’ again.

Flare sighed. Maybe he had social anxiety? It didn’t seem likely, but at the same time, they rarely interacted with other people, and the last time they were in the village, they hadn’t been there for nearly as long- maybe only taking 30 minutes to get the things they needed.

Or maybe it was because they were away from the rosebush? They  _ were  _ meant to be guarding it, and… well, they weren’t doing that right now. Maybe Rigel was just nervous it’d be attacked while they were gone?

Yeah. It was… probably that.

“Rigel, do you want to leave?” Flare asked the other, who had buried his face in the side of Flare’s white jacket, making him laugh a bit. “Hey, silly, look at me,” he said, booping the other’s skull, causing him to look up. “You wanna go?”

“I mean… if you want to, we can?” Rigel whispered, now clutching Flare’s arm. “If you… you want we… we can maybe stay?” His voice wavered, betraying his emotions.

“We’re going, then.” Flare would have liked to stay for a bit longer, but… Rigel looked really upset by something, and he hated it. That… look. It wasn’t right. He hugged Rigel closer to him, and they left a few minutes later.

Rigel was… uncomfortable, to say the least. No, that was an understatement. He- he hated it here. Everywhere he looked, every person that passed him… they glared at him. And for what? What did he do to them? He, of course, knew  _ why _ they hated him, but he hated the answer.

He existed.

That in itself was the reason he was hated- for the very idea of his existence was what they found repulsive. He wished he could have chosen the other-

No.

He- he didn’t want that for Flare. He would  _ never _ wish this on anyone.

He just had to live with it- Rigel was dragged out of his thoughts, blinking in confusion when Flare booped him.

“- want to leave?” Oh, Flare was asking if he wanted to leave. But… Flare… he was happy here, right? Wasn’t he? Wha- oh stars, did he do something wrong? “Hey, silly, look at me.” Flare chuckled, booping his nose. “You wanna go?”

Rigel blinked. “I mean… if you… you want to, we… we can stay?” He winced internally- stars, his voice was so shaky. That wasn’t good. He had to keep up the facade so that Flare wouldn’t-

“We’re going, then.” the other decided, hugging Rigel closer to him. Rigel blushed, a hint of azure dusting his cheekbones.

Five years went by, and things changed. A lot.

One guardian found friendship at every turn, and the other…

Well, why don’t I show you?

_ Don’t be seen, don’t be seen, don’t be- _ Oh no. Wincing, Rigel looked up, and his eyelights went out.  _ Ohh stars, please not now. _ “Uh, hi..?” he tried, looking around for somewhere he could run.

He was surrounded. Of course he was. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “W- what do you want…?” 

The monster- a bunny monster, he realized- sneered at him. “You don’t ask the questions here, punk.” Rigel was shoved down onto the cold stones, gasping for air as he fell. He so desperately wanted to ask, ‘Why?’.

He knew the answers, but it didn’t mean he would stop asking questions. Well- he kinda had to right now. He needed to live.

“You know, you’re pretty worthless,” the monster continued. “Why do we need negativity? Why do we need  _ you _ , when we could just have positivity?”

The others- a mixture of monsters and humans- nodded, some actually muttering their assent.

**\--Start (potential) triggers [part 1]--**

“Kid, I’ve got some advice for you.” Rigel’s head snapped back to the monster who was speaking. “Just. Give. Up. Nobody gives a shit about you.” His gaze dropped to the floor, studying the plants and such that grew between the cracks. Maybe he should… he had been toying with the idea for a while, anyways.

Maybe he  _ should  _ just dust himself-

No.

No! He couldn’t! He had a job. He was needed! So, slowly, he looked up, determination flickering in his now present eyelights, and shook his head in a definitive ‘no’.

“Oh,” the monster said, and for a moment, Rigel believed that maybe, just maybe, they would let him go, but his hopes were quickly shattered. “I guess we’ll have to teach you a lesson, then.”

**\--End (potential) triggers [part 1]--**

By the end of the ‘lesson’, Rigel was bruised in multiple places, and his nasal cavity was bleeding- like a human nosebleed, he guessed. H- how hard did they hit him?

Performing a CHECK on himself… oh stars. 50/100 HP. How- half of his HP was gone, just like that. How long would it take it to get back to 100?

More importantly, how could he hide it from Flare…?

It had been hours. Rigel had been gone for  _ hours _ .

It was supposed to be thirty minutes.

What happened?

Flare sighed. He was worrying too much. Rigel was fine, he could handle anything the world threw at him,  _ and  _ he’d come back with a smile.

Hearing the rustle of grass, Flare looked up, and-

Wait, Rigel was  _ hurt?! _ Letting out an exclamation of surprise, he ran towards the other, wrapping him up in a giant hug. “Are you okay?” he asked, letting go of him.

“Y- yeah, ‘m fine, bro. Jus’ tripped.” Rigel blinked at him blearily.

“No way you hurt yourself  _ that badly  _ from just tripping!” Flare replied, frowning,

Rigel smiled weakly. “Fell on my face, you idiot.”

“Oh,” Flare replied. “How much HP do you have left-?”

“78. I checked.” Rigel lied, not wanting to make the other worry  _ too _ much, but making it low enough to be believable. “I can just sleep it off or something.”

“Uh, okay, then.”

That was awkward, Flare thought, but shrugged it off. He’d be fine by the morning.

At least, that’s what Flare hoped.

It didn’t stop, and the injuries got worse.

Rigel gave in, after a while. He’d stopped fighting the beatings, knowing that if he did, it would hurt more- so much more. Flare wanted to ask him why he’d come home with so much HP docked, but Rigel chalked it up to ‘clumsiness’, and left it at that.

If the guardian wasn’t willing to talk, Flare wasn’t going to pry. Sure, that might not have been the smartest solution, but… Rigel was already hurting, inside and out.

He didn’t want to make it worse.

**\--Start (potential) triggers [part 2]--**

_ This is a terrible idea. _ Rigel thought, staring down at the pocket knife in his hand.  _ I shouldn’t be doing this. _ But he was.

He was, and he hated it.

He hated himself, but he just couldn’t die.

Because he had a job. It was a stupid job, really, and it was the reason he wasn’t dust right now. So, slowly, he carved a straight line through his left ulna. And then another.

It was the only real solution he had right now.

**\--End (potential) triggers [part 2]--**

Flare was exhausted. The villagers wanted his help with everything and anything. It was fun at first, but now? Now it was just another job. He was tired of having to help everyone, but he couldn’t let them all down like that! That was wrong. So he kept helping them.

He couldn’t help but feel that he and Rigel were drifting apart. He… he barely knew the other at this point. Technically, they were 10 years old, now, even though they were, mentally and physically, adults, and they had-

Wait.

When was the last time they’d talked? For more than 5 minutes, at the very least.

A week ago? Two? Flare was horrified he didn’t know the answer.

They were going to talk, Flare decided, if it was the very last thing he did.

Rigel wasn’t expecting this. This… this whole thing. This conversation- there was no way this was  _ actually happening,  _ right? He couldn’t have been that obvious. There- there was no way Flare knew, Rigel had hidden everything so perfectly, and-

“Rigel, I gotta tell you something, okay?” Flare said, interrupting his frantic thoughts.

“Yeah…?” was Rigel’s hesitant reply. Please say it wasn’t what he thought it was-

“I just… I want you to know that even though I’m not… you know, always there for you, I still care, okay? I care about you. If you… uh… dusted, one day, a- at any point, I’d- I- I- I’d  _ dust myself, _ Rige.”

Rigel inhaled sharply. Nevermind, this was worse. This was so, so much worse than what he had thought. Wincing, he looked down. “Don’t do that. Please.”

Flare frowned. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. I- I’m not going to ask you about anything you don’t want me to, okay? I just want you to know that I- that someone really cares about you, okay?”

Then Flare noticed something. Rigel… was crying. “Hey, don’t cry, it’s okay, just-” He took Rigel’s hands in his, noticing the other’s flinch. “Calm down, okay?” He rubbed small circles into the other’s palm.

“I- I’m sorry, Flare.”

“W- you didn’t do anything wrong, what do you-”

“Y- you don’t… you… Flare, you have no idea what I’ve done.” Rigel whispered to him, before trying to turn away, but Flare caught him by the arm.

He didn’t expect Rigel to shriek in pain.

“R- Rigel! Are y- you hurt? What was-” Flare exclaimed, worry clear in his voice, but Rigel interrupted, choking on his sobs, “What do you  _ w- want _ from me?”

He wasn’t seeing Flare, the guardian realized. He was seeing something else.

And what he was seeing terrified him.

Rigel was curled up into a ball, clutching his arm close to his chest, begging, “Please, just- just g- go, I’m not going to dust myself, I’m not, I’m not, _ I’m not going to dust- _ ”

“Rigel! Please, just- just l- look at me!” Flare exclaimed, sitting down next to his brother, holding his shoulders gently but firmly. “You’re not there, you’re here, you’re safe, please, tell me what’s wrong so I can help!” Who had told Rigel to dust himself? That didn’t sound like anyone Flare knew.

Something was wrong.

“Ri- Rige, c- can I see your arm? Please?”

Rigel looked up at him, eyesockets dark and full of tears. He stared at Flare for a moment before the words registered.

He nodded.

Flare lifted the shorter skeleton onto his lap-  _ how long had it been since they had been like this?- _ and lifted his left arm up, ignoring the other’s indignant squeak.

Flare gasped, his eyes trailing over every single cut in the pearly white bone. “Rige, what…?” Rigel scrambled off of him, holding his arm close to himself, before relaxing a bit. “Why…?” The other avoided looking Flare in the eyes.

“You… yeah. That. I… uh, not my  _ smartest  _ choice.”

“Rigel… I… I’m not going to judge you, but please,  _ don’t. _ Don’t… don’t relapse. Please. Can you do it? If not for yourself, can you do it for me..?”

Rigel looked at the floor, before shrugging. “I…”

“I can try.”

Flare hugged him close, whispering, “Thank you, so, so much. Love you, bro.”

“L- love you.”

They both fell asleep like that, the closest they had been in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A quick review of this chapter's skipped parts:  
> 1st part:  
> Rigel considers dusting himself briefly, before having an internal panic, and discarding the thought immediately, because he has a job.
> 
> 2nd part:   
> Rigel feels regret, before succumbing to his urges. He figures if he can't dust, he'll just do the next closest thing.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. These Things Never Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's going to die.  
> He never thought it would come to this, but he's desperate.
> 
> He missed the signs, and now he misses someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this.  
> this is the LONGEST CHAPTER i have ever written.  
> i feel pretty good about it ngl, didn't expect this work to surpass 6k words but with this chapter being 5k it totally will.  
> Have fun, and.... don't die from the angst.
> 
> It's a Dreamtale AU. If you've read the comic, I'm 99% sure you know that people are going to die in this chapter- don't worry, though, because it's not too graphic. And also a certain bean makes a bad choice.  
> I feel bad for him.

Rigel knew something was up as he walked through the village streets, rubbing the scars that marred his arms out of pure habit. Nobody jumped out to meet him, nobody dragged him into an alleyway… Something was definitely wrong here. He hadn’t even been  _ insulted _ once this whole day. There was one explanation, but Rigel didn’t want a false hope- yet, it lingered.

_ What if they gave up? _ N- no. There was  _ no way  _ he had gotten that lucky. Impossible. Pushing the faint hopes he had to the back of his mind, Rigel continued onwards, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

Suddenly he realized what it was-  _ there wasn’t any sound. _ The streets were silent, foreboding, even. Frowning, he stopped walking, just in case he was being-

Yep, he was being followed, Rigel concluded, the tell-tale sound of footsteps stopping a moment too late. Without turning around, he casually flipped a birdie at whoever was following him. 

“If you’re here to beat me up, go ahead and do it,” Rigel said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Don’t leave me hanging.” The last statement was followed by a humorless chuckle. Heh…  _ hanging. _ Something he wished he could do, a long time ago. Sometimes he still did.

A moment of silence, then another, before- “You heard him. Let’s show Flare that he doesn’t need his star, shall we?” Wait. No. No way. They wouldn’t- they didn’t have the guts to-  _ He- he couldn’t actually die, could he? _

But that question was one Rigel had an answer to, and so he ran, hoping he would be fast enough to escape. Because if he wasn’t?

He would die, and he’d never come back.

They were catching up, Rigel realized. Panicking, he sped up, even though his legs were beginning to scream from the sudden strain. He had to go fast, had to  _ be _ faster than the ones behind him. He had no time to think, nor breathe (thankfully, he didn’t need to do the latter), just  _ run,  _ like his life depended on it, because it did. 

Flare… where was he? Was he okay? Stars, he hoped he was. Thinking about it, the villagers were probably distracting him with their minor inconveniences. Rigel hated when they did that- he saw how worn-out his brother was at the end of each day, and it grated on hi-

Ohh stars, they were throwing things now. Rigel now had to dodge everything thrown at him, which ranged from pebbles to- He sidestepped a pitchfork. Who the hell throws  _ pitchforks  _ at people? He got hit by a few smaller objects as he ran towards the rosebush, thankfully avoiding the  _ many _ pitchforks thrown at him by some random individual.

It was, after all, his only hope.

Something was off. Flare knew it. Something was so indescribably wrong- there was so much tension that he felt he could summon a knife and cut it in half.

Why did he feel this way?

What was wrong with him?

Was there really something wrong?

Suddenly, interrupting his thoughts, a bunch of people ran outside of the house he was currently in. “What was that?” Flare asked with a frown, and quickly stood up.

“Uh, nothing you have to worry about, Flare, so, uhm,  _ don’t _ worry ‘bout it!” A short, human female piped up, suspiciously refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Why were they yelling?”

“Uh… there’s a club. And… the people in this club… sometimes run around yelling? It’s one of the things they do?” A monster replied, clearly improvising.

“That… makes literally no sense. I’ve never even heard of this club before- I’m going to go check it out-”   
“Flare, come on-“ The human tried again, quickly moving to block the door.

“Sorry guys, but it should only take a few minutes. I’ll be back before you know it.” Flare pushed past her as gently as he could manage, and the two of them shared a look.

He had nearly made it.

He could do this.

Rigel was going to live, and he didn’t give a shit about anyone’s opinion on the matter.

_ “Hey, Flare, guess what I learned?” Rigel asked, glancing over at his brother. _

_ “I dunno. What did you learn?” Flare looked at Rigel from his spot on the ground, before turning back to the stars. _

_ “So,” he started, moving closer to Flare to better point out the stars. “That’s Orion, right?” _

_ “Yeah. You’ve told me this before- we have all the constellations memorized.” Flare hummed, not quite understanding what Rigel was getting at. _

_ “‘Kay, but that’s not all- see that star over there? The bright blue-ish one?” Rigel pointed it out for good measure. _

_ “Yeah? What’s so special about it?” _

_ “That’s me.” _

_ “That’s yo- oh! Is it Rigel?” _

_ “Yeah! Isn’t that cool?” _

_ “Yep. But you know what’s cooler?” _

_ “Hmm… what?” _

_ “You.” _

_ “Oh,” Rigel blushed. “Thanks!” _

_ “Anytime, bro, anytime.” _

_ “But did you mean that as a compliment, or did you mean that literally…?” _

_ “A compliment, you idiot!” _

It hurt- memories flashing through his mind, one by one, each somehow more bittersweet than the last.

_ “Rigel!” Flare yelled, running up the hill toward his brother. “Look what I got us!” In his hand, there were two necklaces with charms on them- one charm looked like the sun, and the other looked like the moon. Flare threw one to Rigel, and he caught it, studying it carefully. “I couldn’t find anything with a star, sorry about that.” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. _

_ “Flare, this is- this is amazing, what do you mean?” Rigel gasped, holding the necklace like it was the most precious jewel in the world. “I don’t care if it’s a moon or a star or whatever! It’s beautiful!” _

_ Flare blushed a bright red. “Thanks!” He grinned at Rigel. “Wanna put them on?” _

_ “Is that even a question?” Rigel’s eyelights flickered into stars for a few moments, but after he blinked a few times, they returned to their regular shape and size. _

_ “Not really!” _

_ They placed them on each other, both of them with idiotic grins plastered to their faces. “It looks so good on you!” Rigel smiled at Flare, eyelights flickering back and forth between their regular circle-like shape and azure stars. _

_ “Thanks! You too!” _

_ They were both so happy. _

Rigel choked back a sob, his hand going up to clasp the silver necklace he had always worn since it was gifted to him, and his vision blurred with tears.

He was halfway there.

He was going to make it.

_ Flare booped him on the nose. Rigel stared at him. “What are you doing?” he asked, tilting his head. Flare smiled. “A bunch of kids came up to me today, and they said that booping is a way of indirectly telling someone they’re cute. Basically… that they must be protected? Something like that. I dunno, but you are a bean. _

_ Rigel blushed. “Aww, that’s super nice of you, Flare, but I’m really not that cute,” He smirked, booping Flare on his nasal cavity. “I think  _ you’re  _ the cute one! You’re a bean, don’t deny it!” _

_ Flare giggled, and he giggled too. They kept on booping each other, until they collapsed from laughing so hard. _

Why did it hurt so much to be happy?

Why…

Why  _ couldn’t he be happy with this? _

Rigel spared a glance behind him, the villagers nowhere near where he was, but still catching up. Again focusing on the unusually-large rosebush, he nearly tripped over his own feet, recovering within moments.

Flare panicked when he finally realized what was going on. What- this didn’t make sense! Why… none of this made any sense! Why were they chasing his brother? This wasn’t normal, this wasn’t right, and this certainly was uncalled for.

What was wrong? Did he do something wrong? No, wait, that… there wasn’t a good reason to chase someone! Flare, closer to the crowd now, could make out the vague shape of a few pitchforks, and some people appeared to be wielding torches.  _ Pitchforks!? _ Okay,  _ that  _ was too far.

What the hell was happening?

Drawing even nearer, he wove his way through the crowd, trying to make it to the front. He was going to try to hold them back, at the very least. He couldn’t just- just let someone- let  _ Rigel _ suffer like this! He’d scold the mob later, but right now? He needed to stop this from going any further.

It was sad he didn’t know he was going to be too late.

10 feet… 9… 8… The bush was pulling him in, drawing him closer with an enticing aura that it never had before. He didn't care, Rigel realized. He didn’t care about what would happen if he died from eating a rose- he’d be satisfied with the knowledge that he, at the very least, tried to do something- tried to defend himself against a fate he really, truly had never earned.

Heck, eating a rose- one of  _ the roses he was quite literally created to protect _ \- was something he never thought he’d actually be doing- let alone  _ want _ to do in the first place, but life doesn’t always go as planned.

He could almost touch it now. Just a few more steps… Rigel swiftly plucked a golden rose from the bush, turning around and staring down the hill, his eyelights mere pinpricks shaking in dark eyesockets.

Flare was trying to hold them back. It was hard, but Rigel had to be okay,  _ had  _ to survive, because the guardian wouldn’t be able to live with himself if the other didn’t. “Guys! Stop it!” he exclaimed, throwing up a barrier formed from his lavender magic. “You can’t just do this!”

He turned around to look at Rigel, and then gasped in shock. He…

No…. this… this wasn’t  _ actually happening. _

Rigel wouldn’t.   
_ His brother wouldn’t… right? _

_ Or was he really that blind? _

“R- Rigel?” he yelled, and the said guardian, further up the hill, turned to him, staring down at Flare with haunted, dull azure eyelights.

“I… F- Flare? Is… ‘s that… really you?” he whispered, his voice carrying down to the other, who nodded, tears tinted with lavender filling his eyesockets. “Yeah… R- Rige, it’s me.” The guardian of negativity seemed to shrink in on himself, and Flare was struck with a realization. “R… are you…  _ scared _ of me?” Flare asked, and his voice trembled as Rigel’s eyelights finally went out, and that was as good an answer as any.

They stood there a moment in an awkward silence, staring at each other, one’s expression filled with guilt, and the other’s filled with a pain set so deep that it burned them both. “N… why?” Rigel finally whispered, his eyelights returning.

“Why… why what?”

“Flare… why are you… here? I… do you  _ want _ this to be happening?”

Flare winced, looking at Rigel. “What even  _ is _ happening?” he asked, not sure if he really, truly, wanted an answer.

Rigel began to shake slightly, his body wracked with sobs, and Flare swore he could feel negativity radiating off of the other in waves. “Flare… I… I’m going to  _ die _ ,” Rigel said, his voice trembling, weak with fear.

Flare opened his mouth to speak, to reassure the other,  _ his literal other half _ , that, no, he wasn’t going to die, that he’d be alright, but there was a sound akin to the shattering of glass, and Flare’s lavender barrier, they both realized, had shattered from the force of the mob pressing against it, and Flare’s shock from the sudden revelation causing his concentration to sway.

Jostled by the crowd rushing up the hill, Flare couldn’t do anything, and he was pushed to the ground, left to wait for the storm that was the enraged villagers to pass over him, and when he finally managed to look up-

Wincing from the sheer  _ everything,  _ Rigel had to, he couldn’t die, and so, he tore off a petal from the rose that had been sparkling before, but had now lost its luster, and, mind in a set, staticy panic, he raised it to his mouth and pushed it in, moving too fast, too quickly to realize that the flower had gone completely black with negativity.

He fell to the floor, everything slowing down, and his now black tears poured out of his eyesockets, burning him, but they  _ were  _ him, emotions that were twisting into something he could barely recognize as his.

Rigel’s vision went dark, and he didn’t fully register the pain as his bones cracked to release the darkness within him, and he tore at his neck, choking on a foriegn blackness that was so bitter…

And he ate another petal.

And another.

And another.

And when he was done with the first rose, he took another, forcing them down his throat, because it was better than death. It was better than whatever gruesome fate lay ahead of him if he  _ didn’t  _ eat the flowers, as weird as it felt to do so, and so Rigel kept trying to reach the surface of whatever lake he had been thrown into, but he wasn’t making it.

And tears fell, tears that should have been at the very least a soft sapphire but were instead black, corrupted by negativity that had been forced out of the poor guardian, and it hurt him.

Unbeknownst to him, the guardian of negativity was screaming, screaming so loudly, and so painfully that Flare winced. He… he had to do  _ something, _ he couldn’t just stand there, Rigel was suffering and still he was continuing onwards, and Flare  _ couldn’t let that happen. _

He had a job to do.

And he was going to do it right.

Half a plan formed in his brain, he rushed up to the bush, begging that maybe, just  _ maybe _ , he wouldn’t be too late.

He was underwater.

Choking on… something. Was this even water? It was dark, far darker than-

He couldn’t breathe.

Strangely, that didn’t worry him.

As the strange liquid continued to flow through the spaces between his bones, he wondered where he was, and how he got there.

Rigel’s eyelights slowly went out, and his eyesockets closed.

Things would- things  _ could  _ never be the same again.

Flare plucked a flower from the bush, holding it gently in his hands before turning to face his… his brother, who was shaking, his tears- were they even still tears? Flare didn’t know- staining his cheekbones, and was curled up on the floor, trembling.

And then suddenly it all stopped.

Or, at least, Rigel did. Flare spared a glance at the bush and winced. They… all the flowers were gone, except for the one he held in his trembling hands. He took a step back. And then another. And then he tripped over his own feet, but he couldn’t care less, barely even registering that the crowd had stalled in its previously unshaking advance.

He…

Flare was scared. He was scared and he  _ hated  _ that he was scared. He shouldn’t, he couldn’t be scared!

Rigel shifted, with a groan, and Flare’s head jerked to the other, watching him as he moved. Rigel had begun to flex his fingers, moving them one by one as if they were new, completely alien to him. Slowly, the guardian of negativity lifted a hand to his right eyesocket, the motion jerky and unnatural, and Flare gasped. His bones were cracked in several places, oozing a thick black liquid, and the cracks were reminiscent of vines snaking along his arms. Was… was Rigel okay-

Flare felt sick, his SOUL plummeting when Rigel turned to look at him with expressionless eyelights, searching for something in his expression. And whatever he saw- or didn’t see- it made him smile.

Just a little.

And then it grew, wider, unhinged, deranged,  _ insane. _

And then Rigel laughed, and he laughed, and he  _ laughed,  _ and it scared Flare out of his mind, because what could he do? He could watch, and he had to suffer, because it  _ wasn’t fair _ , and it wasn’t his fault at all. Rigel never deserved it, any of this, and now he was suffering, undergoing a punishment that shouldn’t have been his to bear in the first place.

“R- Rigel…? Are you… okay?” Flare asked, his voice cracking in several places. “Do… do you want to talk about this..?” Of course he wouldn’t, Flare had messed up again and again, so why would the other ever forgive him?

Rigel stared at him cooly. “Talk about what?” he replied, quirking a browbone, his voice low, dark and completely alien to Flare.

“This whole mess..?”

Rigel grinned at Flare, the entirety of the expression twisted, like the guardian’s sanity had been a thread that had finally snapped. “Okay, brother, but I have something to do first.” With a wink and barely concealed excitement and anger, Rigel stood up, and turned to the villagers, yelling, “You’re going to be sorry, you idiots! You… you just wanted to see him- see  _ me  _ suffer! And I did! Wasn’t it great, torturing a poor, innocent youth? He paid for your sins, didn’t he? And he never fought back, oh no, he just stood there and took it! But, you know, they have a saying.” Rigel giggled, somehow finding humor in…  _ this _ . “What goes around comes around… and I think it’s time you paid for your sins.” His left eyelight went out, and the only one remaining began to glow a bright, sickening green, and both eyesockets began to drip with the same sludge that had oozed from the cracks in his bones- and began to do so once more.

The mob collectively took a step back, their fear palpable through the tension in the air that continued to grow with every passing moment, every single second that went by. Rigel raised a hand, and the ensuing snap as it was brought down seemed to echo throughout the area.

Flare, startled into action by the noise, brought the rose up to his mouth and bit down on it, forcing himself to swallow. It was sweet, he thought, but it was unnaturally so. He was glad he’d done it then, because not a few moments later, he was entangled within a mess of vines, purple and black flowers budding in some spots.

Peering in the… general direction of the flash mob, Flare could discern the flailing limbs of humans and monsters alike, trapped in a fashion similar to the way the guardian himself was trapped, albeit, less… cocooned.

He felt something from them.

He felt…

He felt their  _ emotions. _

And it burned, but Flare didn’t care about that- not at all. He… Flare couldn't  _ afford _ to care right now, because he had to concentrate on fixing this right now. Caring could come later.

Distantly, muffled through the layers and layers of vines he was wrapped in, he heard the sound of hysterical laughter, and… and the screams of people who were innocen-

No.

They weren’t innocent, they had hurt his brother, hurt Rigel, forced his hand, and now they were trapped in this mess-  _ no. _ He… this was his fault, he should have seen it, he should have known… Flare heard the screams, again, louder this time, and when they suddenly stopped, he flinched, knowing they were all  _ dead.  _ He… he could stop this, he just needed to… get out of here-

Flare was unceremoniously plopped on the ground as the vines suddenly retracted. Shading his eyes from the sunlight, he looked up at his… at  _ Rigel _ , who was smiling down at him like he hadn’t just murdered a bunch of people, that he didn’t have their dust and blood on his hands…

The person he knew would never do that. Rigel was a  _ good person, _ and he- he’d never…! Mind made up, he looked shakily at the person he would have loved to keep calling his brother, eyelights small with a mixture of horror, shock, and even a little bit of fear, but nonetheless burning with a bright DETERMINATION.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Rigel asked him, and the words just barely registered to Flare, who remained silent for a moment, which became two moments, and then three, four, six, ten-

“Huh, you’re real quiet, aren't cha?” Flare looked at the other blankly. “Listen, you can ask me one question, oka-”

“Why did you kill them?”

Rigel’s expression darkened considerably. “Oh, I _wonder_ _why_ they could _possibly_ deserve a fate such as this? Perhaps it was the beatings? The lies? Flare, sometimes I wonder how you didn’t catch on. You’re smart, right? So why didn’t you see it? And then one day, it clicked! My own brother doesn’t care about me anymore! I mean, sure, I was in denial for a _looong_ time, but after the whole ‘eating-a-rose-and-getting-high-on-new-power’ stuff, yeah! It makes sense!”

Flare’s stomach sunk, feeling like he knew where this conversation was heading, and it was somewhere he really didn’t like. Rigel smirked. “Flare, you’re a dirty little traitor, aren’t you…?”

Flare shook his head vigorously. “No, you don’t get it-“

“ _ Shut up! _ ” Rigel exclaimed, and Flare winced as a vine that had previously laying idle beside him reached out to grab his leg. “You didn’t ask why I came back every single night injured, you knew I wasn’t that clumsy, and I’m not  _ stupid! _ ”

Flare sighed. “Can I jus-“

“No.”

“But I didn’t even-“

“ _ No,  _ Flare. I am sick and tired of… whatever the hell this is.”

The guardian tried to stand, to force Rigel to just  _ let him talk _ , but he was immediately captured, again. Flare was beginning to get the impression that Rigel liked being flashy. “Flare. Stop trying. You’re a traitor. Even if you weren’t before, you ate the last rose, didn’t you?”

Flare was pulled up to stand. “So I guess that makes us enemies, now doesn’t it? Heh, guess I won’t be needing this anymore.” Rigel lifted a hand to grasp the necklace that had been on his person since the day it had been gifted to him, and in one swift motion, snapped the chain and threw it aside, Flare’s eyelights following its flight path as it soared through the air, arcing toward a patch of grass a short way away.

_ This wasn’t right. _

When Flare finally,  _ finally _ looked back at the other, Rigel was watching him, eyelights betraying his twisted amusement. “Well, this has been a fun chat.” he said, after a short while,

“...it really hasn’t…”

“But I have to go.” Rigel continued, either not registering the words spoken or uncaring of them, both scenarios equally likely.

“Go… go where?” Flare managed to hiss between grit teeth. “There’s literally nowhere you can flee to in this entire universe-!”

“Exactly my point!” Rigel chuckled darkly. “You see, Flare, there might be nowhere in  _ this _ universe I can go to, but-” He waved a hand, and something reminiscent of a portal appeared, which was promptly accompanied by a sinking feeling in Flare’s SOUL. “I can go to another! And I can do that again, and again, and again, forever! It’s perfect, really.”

“Someone’s going to stop you, eventually… someone, somewhere… Rigel, you’re not getting away with this…!” Flare knew he couldn’t do anything right then, because he knew he had already lost this battle a while ago, but…

He was DETERMINED to win the next.

Rigel rolled his eyelights. “Eh,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’s not that easy to kill someone like me,” -Flare begrudgingly conceded that may be true- “But I wonder, how easy is it to kill someone like you…? Ah, Flare, did you know that it’s really ill-advised to remove weapons that have impaled you from their entry point? It just leads to further loss of blood. You think that they’d learn…”

If Flare was a human, by now he would have undergone several unpleasant bodily functions. Rigel sighed dramatically. “That wouldn’t work on you, though. I guess I’ll have to use my bare hands.” Flare felt his bonds become even tighter, and tensed, prepared for the worst. Rigel raised a fist. “Goodnight,” came the soft, ominous whisper, and then everything, predictably, went black.

When Flare finally came to, his head was pounding, and for a moment, he wondered what had happened. A single glance towards the village solved that memory lapse, the sight of blood, dust, and mangled bodies a quick reminder of what had transpired, and he absentmindedly noted that his clothes were torn.

He gasped. The necklace… was… was it even still there? Had it even landed there in the first place..? Standing up shakily, he ran over to where he last saw it, when it had landed a fair distance away, discarded by its owner.

It was still there, and Flare sighed in relief. He picked it up, and inspected it. Luckily, it wasn’t too terribly damaged- a scratch mark or two from its rough landing, but other than that, it remained completely undamaged. Its corresponding silver chain, the guardian quickly realized, was nowhere to be seen, and after a few minutes of looking for it, he gave up. Instead, Flare opted to simply attach it to his own, gold one.

He held the necklace, now adorned with two charms, one golden and its twin silver. Flare was, for a moment or two completely, utterly still, and then he began to sob, the tears that hadn’t come before coming now, for the adrenaline rush that had lingered for some time had gone now. 

He cried and he cried until tears stopped coming, and then he screamed himself hoarse, his emotions a gigantic mess that he simply didn’t have the energy to sort out right then.

After a while of sitting there, just… staring ahead blankly, unsure of what to do next, the broken guardian stood up. He was going to look for his things, find a way out, and… well, he didn’t know what would happen after that, but he’d be happy as long as it involved him just being alive.

Yeah, the bar was despicably low.

Stumbling towards the- the rosebush, he shook, tripping over vines strewn across the floor haphazardly, remnants of the battle- no, it wasn’t a battle, a  _ massacre _ , and he would have cried again if he still had tears to cry. Were their things still there? He hoped they were, and if they weren’t, that was fine too, a shame but fine with him.

A book. A sketchpad- it hadn’t even been used for its intended purpose, Flare thought wryly. Pens and pencils, used until they were unable to give anything more to their owners, discarded, some haphazardly and some with a semblance of organization. His phalanges hovered over the book, wanting to open it, but…

Moving of their own accord, they began to gently lift the cover, before Flare slammed it closed.  _ No. _ That was an invasion of privacy.

He couldn’t-

He shouldn’t-

He felt like scum for even considering it, instead picking up his larger sketchbook, and opening it to look at the sketches and other pieces of art he had made over the years.

The first one and a half were many watercolor paintings, landscapes and the like. He had never gotten the hang of drawing people. He winced, seeing his many failed attempts to draw… whatever this brownish-black thing was. He guessed he had given up. Flare turned several pages ahead, discovering a few pencil sketches. They were, again, landscape, but this time drawn entirely in greyscale. He preferred these over the previous drawings, but that may have been because of his experience of the years. 

Then they stopped.

When was the last time he had drawn anything? A year or two ago? Six months?

He had no idea.

It didn’t matter. He held the sketchbook to his chest, breaths ragged and tinged with guilt. A few more tears made themselves known, and he wiped them off with a single hand. He… he had to be strong.

Crying didn’t help anyone, least of all himself.

He tried not to think about the past.

He tried.

He failed.

He thought.

He  _ remembered. _

The poems. Glancing over to the smaller, leatherbound book laying nearby, Flare wondered if it mattered if he didn’t look. Realistically, it didn’t. So, shakily, he flipped to about halfway through, to the latest page bookmarked, not knowing what he should expect from it.

Surprisingly, he found a list.

Well, it looked like it should have been a list, but it had never been started. It had just a single bullet point, alone, all by itself on the page. There was no title, so Flare had no idea what it  _ could _ have been for. Hell, there wasn’t even a  _ date _ for him to reference.

Turning several pages back, he found another list. This time, multiple things had been scratched out to the point of illegibility, and the page was frayed, meaning it had been turned to many times over the… years, it looked like. He squinted, trying to make out the last sentence, it being the most recent.

_ ‘You can’t. He said he’d dust himself. Take it as truth. Discard this page, don’t let him see it. Stay alive. Can’t destroy the only person who cares about you, even though he deserves better. Try not to die.’ _

Flare strangely felt nothing as he looked at those words written on an old, faded piece of paper, at those ominous words written in pencil that seemed to explain so much, and yet, so painstakingly little.

No matter how much he wanted to feel something, emotion, proper  _ emotion,  _ failed him. He didn’t care, he thought, placing down the book, its cover closed, and pushing it away from him. He  _ couldn’t. _

And then, like the universe was playing some cruel game with him, he felt emotion once more, if only just a bit, and it hurt, it ached, but he tried not to show that it did. And again, he failed, hugging his legs to his sternum, and rocking back and forth, crying quietly, alone in an empty universe, with no way to leave.

When a certain artist found him, a while later, he was gazing ahead dully, tear tracks still clear, distinct on his cheekbones, holding onto a necklace with two charms on it like it was the only thing that mattered, because to him, it was.

It was all he had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> herp derp-  
> that's the end!  
> no more fic!  
> please leave a kudos or even a comment if you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Itch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458145) by [Insane_but_smart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insane_but_smart/pseuds/Insane_but_smart)




End file.
